Holiday Gift Fics 2014
by Mertiya
Summary: A collection of ficlets written (rather quickly, all of them on Christmas Eve) meant as gifts to the various shippers who follow me, primarily on tumblr. Each chapter is standalone, and each chapter focuses on a different ship in a different modern AU. Most of the chapters are actually T, but the final one is a very solid M.
1. Chinese and Eggnog

**A/N: This is actually part of an ongoing AU, in which Jace is a florist and Ral is a tattoo artist. I don't have any of the rest of the continuity posted, except for snippets on my tumblr (elsepthsunschampion) if you're really desirous of finding them. The ficlet basically stands on its own, and much to everyone's astonishment, I'm sure, the ship in this one is Zeleren (which is my OTP.)**

The irritating buzz of the ceiling fan brought Jace back to consciousness. His head was aching badly, and his eyes were full of grit. The light piercing in through the window was hitting his face at the wrong angle. Suddenly terrified he was going to be late for work, he sat up hurriedly and was instantly disoriented. This wasn't his room. His room had stark, bare walls that Jace had been too lazy to change—this room was covered in designs and paintings, scribbled in a strong hand. It was breathtaking how the disparate pictures seemed to melt into one another to create a flow from one to the next and a sense of something holistic and beautiful.

Right. He was in Ral's bed. The night before was a blur of loneliness, followed by a visit to his downstairs neighbor, followed by a little too much egg-nog, and then—the images hit Jace in the stomach forcefully, and he actually moaned a little, before covering his mouth with his hand. That—he hadn't meant for that to happen. He'd been flirting with Ral, but he hadn't meant to just jump into bed with the man.

Jace glanced around the empty room. The other side of the bed was mussed, as if it had been slept in, but no sign of his neighbor. Of course. Jace sighed and clumsily started to get out of the bed, gripped by sudden panic that he was going to be late again, before he remembered the florist's shop was closed, because it was Christmas. He shook his head and laughed ruefully. He had been working there for three years now, and he still unfailingly nearly panicked every Christmas morning. Still, he might as well get going. There wasn't much point in staying when Ral obviously didn't want him here. Jace tried to shrug off the sudden hurt feeling in his stomach. At least the sex had been pretty great.

As he searched for his trousers—his shirt had been lying on the floor, but his pants were eluding him—he heard the sound of the exterior door opening and shutting, and he froze. "Are you awake?" Ral's voice called, but he didn't wait for an answer, instead flinging the bedroom door open dramatically. "I hope you like Chinese for breakfast, nowhere else was open."

"Uh," Jace said intelligently. "Hi?"

Ral swept across the room, took Jace by the small of his back, and kissed him, long and lingering, his hands playing down across Jace's back and onto the tops of his legs. "Haaaah," Jace managed, once he was finally let go. He staggered backwards and sat down on the bed. "I, um, I thought you left."

"I did. I went to get breakfast. I thought you might be hungry." One of Ral's expressive eyebrows went up. "Ah, you meant you thought I _left_." He bent down and pecked Jace on the cheek. "I'm not giving up sex like that unless I have to," he said nonchalantly, but Jace thought he saw something more in the bright eyes, and he felt a sudden smile creep across his face. Ral grinned wickedly. "We have time for more, you know," he said. "I don't really celebrate Christmas, and I imagine you don't either."

"Huh? I mean, I don't, but how did you—"

Ral gave him a skeptical look. "The menorah in the window was a bit of a tip-off," he said wryly. "Not to mention—" he pointed to the blue sweater with its Star-of-David that Jace had been wearing last night, which was now draped over the top of the closet. "And of course," Ral continued with a devilish grin, "there's the fact that your dick is circum—"

"Sh-shut up!" Jace looked away, cheeks burning.

"The point," Ral said patiently. "Is that we have a whole day to do what_ever_ we want."

"How about breakfast and a movie?" Jace suggested with a smile.

"Hmmm, yes, I suppose we can start with that," Ral agreed. "But don't put your pants back on."

"Only if you take yours off," Jace responded with a frown.

"You drive a hard bargain, Beleren, but very well."

As he got up and began to peel them off, Jace licked his lips and then grinned. It was going to be a good day.


	2. Weird Gifts

**A/N: Melek x Vorel, could be seen as a college, graduate-school, or post-graduate AU, but is intended to be read as human!Melek and human!Vorel.**

Vorel sighed, squinting down his microscope as he tried to focus on the sample on the glass slide in front of him. It was no good. Not that the microscope wasn't focusing, but his eyes kept blurring. Perhaps he ought to consider getting some sleep.

"Vorel!" the hopeful voice by his ear made him jerk upright and look around. His boyfriend of three weeks was standing there, in a red t-shirt and jeans and with a ridiculous-looking Santa hat perched on top of his curly hair. "Merry Christmas!" He was holding a gift-wrapped box clutched in two hands. "I got you this." Melek pushed it at him.

Vorel opened his mouth to say that he didn't celebrate Christmas, that it was unscientific and a cheap, overrated, commercial holiday, took one look at the nervous, round blue eyes regarding him, and shut his mouth again. "Thank you," he said cautiously.

"I know you do not usually celebrate Christmas," Melek went on, and Vorel flushed. "But I thought it would be nice to show that I care about you by giving you a gift?"

"Th-thank you," Vorel repeated again, stammering a little. He sat down at his lab table and began to carefully undo the pristine wrapping paper. Melek had put too much tape on it, and he hovered nervously as Vorel wrestled with it, finally managing to extract a cardboard box, from which he pulled something swathed round and round with bubble wrap. The bubble wrap was covered in even more tape than the box had been.

"Should I do that?" Melek asked. "I am sorry, I did not want it to get damaged…" He trailed off, as Vorel shook his head at him.

"I've got it," he said, then finished with, "but thank you." Once the bubble wrap was finally removed, he found that he was holding a new hard-drive.

"It is two terabytes!" Melek said by his ear. "I know that you were running out of room for your data, and I thought, perhaps, you might like—are—are you all right? Have I done something wrong?"

Vorel's head was bowed, his eyes shut, his hands shaking. He turned, suddenly, took Melek's hands in both of his. "No, you have done absolutely nothing wrong," he said forcefully. "This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. Thank you. Thank you so much." He leaned forward and kissed the other man gently on the mouth. "I didn't get you anything, but I'm falling asleep, and I know how much you enjoy cuddling, and we don't do it often, so—perhaps—you would join me? For cuddles?"

Melek leaned forward against him. "Yes, please, I would very much enjoy that," he said into Vorel's shirt-front, and the two of them started laughing, gently. Not because anything was funny, but just because they were both—happy.


	3. Treetoppers

**A/N: Savacyn, but decidedly not incest. The two are entirely unrelated in this ficlet.**

Avacyn hummed to herself as she put the last touch on the tree. She had had to hurry home to make sure she was there before her husband, but she'd made it with half an hour to spare, and here she was putting the last bauble on the tree as the garage door began to open. Perfect timing, she said to herself proudly.

She raced through the house and flung open the door in Sorin's face. "Welcome home!" she chirped.

Sorin gave her a tired, slightly-exasperated, but fond look, and bent down to kiss her on the lips. "Just how many speed limits did you break getting home before me?" he asked.

"I'll never tell," smiled Avacyn. She grabbed his hand. "Come and see what I did!"

She dragged him into the living room, waiting with bated breath for his response to the tree that towered in the center of the room. He walked around it slowly, so slowly and so inspectingly that Avacyn felt her heart leap into her mouth. He was probably just teasing her, but… "Do you like it?" she asked, when she couldn't take it anymore.

"I do," said Sorin mildly. "It _is_ missing one thing, though."

"It is? What?" She looked over the tree, covered in lights and baubles, stars, sleds and Santa Claus.

Sorin reached out an arm and drew her close, speaking into her hair. "My angel," he said softly. "For the top of the tree, you know."

Avacyn blushed and smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "I'm afraid I'd make the branches collapse," she pointed out.

"Yes, and I'd rather have you down here with me," Sorin said. "Nevertheless, I had to point it out. The tree is beautiful, Avacyn. Almost as beautiful as you are."

"Thank you," she whispered, as she leaned into his arms.


	4. Fire and Metal

**A/N: Unlike the others, which were mostly holiday fluff, this is holiday pr0n. Tezzeret x Baltrice, potentially dubious consent, potentially not the healthiest of relationships (though it's somewhat unclear, as it's quite short), BDSM, dirty talk.**

Tezzeret woke to find the fuzzy handcuffs on his wrists and ankles, the sheets pulled back from the bed, and himself completely naked. "What the—" he said.

"Merry Christmas," Baltrice's amused voice said. She was standing in the doorway, wearing Christmas-themed thigh-highs, a tiny, frilly piece of green-and-red lingerie that pushed up her breasts and left almost nothing to the imagination, and a red Santa-Claus hat.

Tezzeret swallowed. "Ah—" he managed, as Baltrice swayed across the room, moving her hips in an exaggerated rocking lilt. She leaned down across him, trailing her hand up his leg, and he shuddered and arched his back up into her.

"Do you want me?" she whispered in his ear, breath hot on his neck. Tezzeret nodded frantically. "Just one condition then," Baltrice whispered seductively. "Tell me what you want."

Tezzeret raised an eyebrow at her. "I would like it if you were to—um—" he tried to move his hands, but the handcuffs prevented him. "Be on me," he finished a little lamely. Only a few minutes after he had woken up, and he was already achingly hard. He flushed. "R-ride me?" he managed.

"You're not being vulgar enough," Baltrice chuckled, lowering herself until she was barely brushing against the tip of his erection. When he tried to buck against her, she was gone.

"I do not use vulgar words," Tezzeret said frustratedly, looking away. "I don't swear. You know that, Baltrice."

Her teeth nibbled at his neck, almost painful, and he moaned again. "Not even for me?" she breathed. "Won't you—" her hand slid down his stomach and onto his erection. "Won't you _beg _me?" Tezzeret's breathing hitched up. "Just for me, just for Christmas, just this once—a present for me?"

"A—a present?" he choked, his head swimming with lust and thwarted desire.

"Well, I figured since I'm giving you one," Baltrice said, running her finger over the tip of him. Tezzeret's eyes fell shut, and he groaned, her voice, her scent, already overwhelming him.

"All right," he gasped. "All right."

"So…" she positioned herself above him. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"F-f-fuck me," he managed to gasp out, and Baltrice laughed wildly and slid down on top of him, grinding her hips to meet his, and Tezzeret groaned and let himself be swallowed up by the heat of her.

There were words falling out of his mouth; Tezzeret couldn't keep track of what he was saying, but he had a feeling his ears ought to be burning with embarrassment. His suspicions was confirmed when Baltrice, gasping and rocking, bent forward until her breasts were pressed against his chest, and hissed, "You filthy, filthy man," and kissed him roughly on the mouth as she moved, as she fucked him, as her warmth moved over him and against him and—

"_Fuck_," Tezzeret groaned, crashing his hips into hers, straining against the handcuffs, as they moved faster and faster, as he lost control over himself, as—

-the world dissolved into white as he came with a whimper. Baltrice peeled herself off of him and looked down at him in a way he couldn't quite interpret, as he sagged against the bonds.

"Do you think you're done?" she asked sweetly.

"Um…" said Tezzeret.

"Because I'm not done, and if I'm not done, neither are you," she grinned as she climbed up his body to position herself over his mouth.

"Mmph," said Tezzeret, and Baltrice squeaked and groaned. "Yes, good," she said. "Keep on using that filthy mouth, why don't you?"

It was strange how comfortable he felt beneath her. Strange how they fitted together, despite the broken, jagged edges of both of their pasts. Strange—what a good Christmas this was turning out to be.


End file.
